Through the Window
by melbie
Summary: Jade deals with the news of Artemis's passing and watches as it affects the people closest to her. Jade/Roy. One-Shot.


_Disclaimer: Young Justice is owned by DC Comics, Warner Bros., and Cartoon Network, and comes from the fantastic minds of Greg Weisman and Brandon Vietti. Note that my name was not included in that list. Unless I actually am Greg or Brandon. In which case my parents have some explaining to do._

* * *

**Through The Window**

* * *

Jade hated hospitals.

She hated the smell of antiseptic. She hated the squeaking of cart wheels on polished linoleum. She hated the cheery posters and flowers in each room that matched the nurses and doctors' forced smiles. They looked like recovering victims of Joker venom gas.

But she didn't hate Roy.

Through the glass panel set into the door, two fiery red heads of hair could be seen; one practically hidden by a white curtain, and the other slumped in a chair. Even from a distance, Jade could see his wide shoulders rise and fall between breaths. The feel of relief at seeing them both alive and well threatened to melt her into a quivering puddle.

Everything was falling into place. The young Roy was safe – though not exactly in one piece – and her Roy was on the right track. Their daughter was going to have the stable family life she never had. The life Artemis had now.

Her cell phone chose that moment to buzz violently from within her belt. That was odd. She could literally count the number of people who had her direct line on one hand.

"Hello?"

"Jade? It's Wally."

A young male nurse had built up a head of steam to come over and remind her about cell phone usage policies, but the words promptly died in his throat with one twitch of her eyebrow.

_Still got it. _"Well, if it isn't the former Kid Flash. How did you get this number? Did my sister give it to you, even though I expressly told her not to?" A bite of steel entered her voice.

"No," he said. "From your mother."

There was an emotion in his voice that she couldn't quite place. In the years she had known him – as Wally and as Kid Flash – she had heard his voice full of childish joy, unadulterated hate, and mindless fear (an emotion she particularly enjoyed to cause).

But this was different. It bordered on nothing. Emptiness. Devoid of feeling. For the vibrant young speedster her sister had chosen, this was a bad sign.

"Why did you call me?" she asked with urgency. "What is it, Wally?"

"It's about Artemis."

* * *

There is a moment before you hear that someone has died where you know exactly what the other person will say.

There's an intense feeling of foreboding that your body knows, but your mind ignores. In the split second before the words come out, you think about how ridiculous you're being and drop all mental defenses. When the words come, they don't arrive with an explosion. It takes time for the realization to slip under your skin, to steal your breath, and force you to your knees.

Some people cry right away, but for others the tears don't come. Not just yet. Maybe it takes a few minutes or a few days, but they always come.

Jade's tears came as she flew over the rooftops. They were cold and left frozen streaks on her cheeks, but as long as she kept moving she could lie to herself. It was just the wind pressure. Just the wind.

Roy must have known by now.

She had had the phone clutched in a death grip, standing motionless outside the hospital room. Before her arm could fall to her side, Roy had appeared, having seen her expression change through the door.

"Chesh?" he had asked. "Is everything okay?"

She could still feel the warm outline of his hand on her shoulder for support. She wanted to fall into his arms, bury her face into his wide shoulders, and let his warmth envelop her until the throbbing pain could subside.

But that wasn't her style. Instead, she had pushed the phone into his chest, crossed young Roy's hospital room in several quick strides, and flown out the open window.

The night air greeted her like a long lost friend, its icy fingers curling around her body, inviting her to stay. This was the life she was born for, after all. It's late enough for stars, even in the city. They sparked and shone in the corners of her vision. Mocking her.

People always think there's a light waiting at a distant tunnel when their lives end. Jade knew better. There's no holy ascension or choir of angels to help float you on to a merry afterlife. One minute you're alive, the next you're dead. It's as simple as that.

She ran for hours. Her feet took her across roofs, around chimneys, up fire escapes, and across a bridge. Daybreak was beginning to overtake the contemptuous stars and stretches across the sky like pulling cotton candy.

Who could ever say how she found her destination, but sure enough it's where she ended. Lawrence's apartment. Dear old dad. If there's one thing she had learned with him, it's that beating someone into a squished, bleeding, praying pulp of nothing was the best medicine for life's pitfalls.

She took a ready stance like a high school track star, poised to rocket through his apartment window and – hopefully – land straight in his infuriating face.

But a loud crash of shattering glass broke her concentration. Amber speckles of light glinted through the window like pebbly shells at the bottom of a shallow river.

She crawled to find a closer perch at the top of a nearby fire escape. A better look revealed the remains of an empty bottle of scotch littered on the floor and her father slumped on the coach, a hand running through his blonde hair. Artemis had inherited that hair.

Jade watched him go through a second bottle, and then a third. When the final drops of fiery liquid trickled from the bottle's lip, he would throw it against the wall, where the white plaster crumbled into a wide hole.

She decided to leave him be.

There was nothing she could do to Lawrence that his own demons weren't already taking care of.

* * *

Two days passed.

A cap pulled low over her eyes, Jade stood on a hill watching her mother, Paula, and Wally place flowers at the grave.

It had been a while since she had laid eyes on her mother. Several fresh white hairs were poking out of Paula's low ponytail and the skin around her raw red eyes looked more wrinkled than before.

She was grateful Wally was there. As much as she had considered the kid unworthy of her sister, someone had to stand beside Paula. That woman had more strength than her father or the whole Justice League put together for going through all the hardships life had brought down on her weakening shoulders.

In that moment, Jade felt more closely tied to her mother than ever before. Her fingers unconsciously gripped baby Lian to her chest and her lips sought her daughter's soft forehead. The little girl with Artemis's middle name. The mere thought of losing her own beautiful daughter was more than she could bear.

Lawrence stood behind her, sobered up and expressionless. Like he lost daughters every day. It didn't matter. She had already seen everything she needed.

The wind ruffled a nearby bouquet, causing several petals to fall prematurely and land by her feet. She stepped on it. The fragile bud came away sticky and smeared on the bottom of her shoe.

The dead don't need flowers, she thought. Flowers wither and die.

Revenge. The feeling of cold, pure retribution. That was permanent.

She dropped Lian off at her father's, creeping in and out of the apartment before Roy could catch her. From her perch on a distant tree branch she could see him reenter the room with a steaming mug of coffee and nearly drop it at the sight of his daughter. His eyes were red too.

Roy headed straight for the window. He knew her too well. Before she could hear his voice calling her name, she had already bounded back into the sky.

He wouldn't want her to take revenge. They used to be friends after all. But there was no shaking the die once they had already been cast. Aqualad would die, and Jade would accept whatever consequences came.

There was work to be done.

* * *

A/N: This story came from a deep, quiet place I'd forgotten I had, almost to the point where there's too much of myself in it. But I hope you enjoy it and that you have enough grief chocolate to last you for a while after the new episode tomorrow.


End file.
